


Kiss of Death

by d__T



Series: The Afternoon Light Cuts to Size [17]
Category: Blood Drive (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, rehash of a scene in episode one from rasher's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d__T/pseuds/d__T
Summary: Rib Bone thinks he can play the game, game the race, walk away with his life.Rasher thinks otherwise.





	Kiss of Death

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this as a series, the previous work is [Burrow Your Way To My Heart by JasperIsAFanboy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13633581)  
> Season 5

Rasher watches the crowd as Julian performs his way through the opening remarks. The racers are gathered up front near the stage with the salivating shivering crowd at their back. Further back, the race vehicles sit with headlights on: idle, hungry, waiting. He scans back to the front  and everyone is captivated by Slink’s flair, all except Rib Bone. Rib Bone is watching Rasher like Rasher’s his next target.

Rib Bone has been schmoozing up to Slink for a week pre-race at least, demanding private meetings, tit for tat favor situations,  _ understandings _ . He doesn't like Rasher much either, only seems to want Slink’s favor, or maybe Rasher’s position in Slink’s graces. The competition that he never wanted makes Rasher hungry in incomprehensibly intense ways. But Slink loves the pandering like it's his due so Rasher tolerates it, like Rib Bone’s fate isn’t already sealed by the asterisk next to his name in the notes for episode four. Like it will get him out alive.

Rasher thinks this is all  _ very _ bullshit. If Rib Bone wanted to not-die, he maybe shouldn’t have brought a ‘38 Ford two-ton to a  _ road rally _ .

The spot light flicks to Rasher- his cue to range through the crowd with the pulse gun. He sashays off the stage, hips swaying counter the weight of the charge canister. Rib Bone is oh so conveniently closest to him, and the hunger roils inside him.

Rib Bone stares at him with the intensity of someone who’s just realized they’re about to be freight trained. Who’s feeling what rabbits feel when they see the hawk circling, what his victims feel when they see him and Rasher feels the coldest smile grow on his face.  _ Beg me now for clemency _ .

Rib Bone lets him tuck the muzzle of the pulse charge into the back of his neck like a lover, stays still as Rasher kisses his forehead and pulls the trigger at the same time. Lets him walk away out of the moment without protest.

Later, when Rasher reviews the video tapes the look of shock and confusion is so satisfying. That Rib Bone has realized the rigging on this game, and that it’s too late: he can’t win.

**Author's Note:**

> the hunger will make more sense when I publish other things that clarify why rasher feels these things


End file.
